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marysuevirus2024-06-13 05:50 pm
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in marysuevirus2024-06-13 05:50 pm
Among the Strong
Title: Among the Strong
Chapter Eighteen: Possessive
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs todazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar .
Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
She listened to the deep quality of Scott's voice as he continued reading the adventures of halflings, humans, elves, and dwarves to the baby in her belly. It had been this way since she'd had the thing with Sinister. The thing she couldn't remember. Every day, just after lunch, when Haley got sleepy from eating and the baby draining her energy, she'd settle on the bed to rest and Scott would sit beside her, the thick tome in his hand. And he would read, each word spoken with care, to the bump.
Haley didn't bother to listen to the words. She'd read the book so many times that she practically knew it by heart. Instead, she listened to the strong, sure, steady sound of Scott's voice. Even here, in this tiny space where they were just Scott and Haley, there was that leader quality to his voice that she'd come to love.
And it wasn't just his voice she loved. There was the tender, almost reverent way, his hands touched the bump. The worshipful way they touched the rest of her. There was the uncertainty that sometimes flashed in the depths of his eyes. There was the warmth and joy that always seemed to fill them, too. There was the sweet pressure of his lips when he kissed the bump. When he kissed her. There was the smell of him, the softness of his hair, the way he was strong and gentle in turns. It was all that and so much more that pulled at her heart and tried to tear it in two.
Because the truth was, as beautiful and amazing as this time had been, it was never going to last. They'd go back home eventually. She fully believed that. To think anything else was to invite madness. Going back home meant going back to the lives they'd led before all this shit had come about. Johnny was waiting for her, probably frantic with worry because of all the time that had passed. Unless she'd been officially declared dead. Johnny might have moved on. That thought made her heart ache uncomfortably.
What would she do if Johnny thought she was gone for good? What happened if she went back and he was engaged to or married to someone else? How did she survive that? Because that would shred what remained of her heart. The rest of it would already be torn apart simply by virtue of Scott going back to Jean. She had no doubt that Jean was waiting patiently for Scott to return to her. The other woman was probably sure he would. That would leave Haley without either of them in her life.
And what about her children? She didn't think the older ones would have forgotten her already. But TJ was still so young. Would she remember her mother? Or would she start thinking of anyone Johnny might date as her mother? She didn't think she could bear it if TJ forgot her entirely. TJ, who would probably delight at the idea of being a big sister. TJ, who had been a wonderful and amazing surprise.
"Haley?" Scott's hand was there to wipe away tears she hadn't realized were falling, pulling her from her dark and depressing thoughts. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replied even though she knew he'd see it for the weak lie it was. She couldn't drop all of her stupidity on his shoulders. This was her stuff to deal with. "Just lost in thought."
Scott stared at her for several long seconds, his eyes focused on her intently. In their rich, warm brown depths, she could see his doubt and skepticism, but he said nothing, Simply took her at her word. But he did close the book with a soft thump and set it aside. The hand that had recently held the book settled on the bump possessively. "You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart," he said gently.
Haley nodded. He frowned when she wasn't more forthcoming with information. Worry took root in his gaze. It was worry for her and she felt terrible for putting it there. She hated making him fret. But this was her shit to deal with. He couldn't help her with her feelings for her husband, who might have moved on, and her lover, who would definitely move on when the time was right.
"You don't have to carry your burdens alone, Haley. You know that, right?" he asked her softly.
Guilt trickled through her. His question told her that he knew where her thoughts had drifted. And he was willing to help her with all of her emotional baggage. The urge to cry got stronger and Haley had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. "I know that, Scott. And I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that you want to help me. But there are some things that not even your broad shoulders can take." She let her hands trail across said shoulders, marveling once again in the feel of his skin against her own. In the way it hugged close to the line of his collar bones and the swell of muscle in his shoulders. He was perfection.
"When it has to do with you and our baby, I can shoulder the weight of the world, Haley. Trust me. I'm strong enough for both of us," he said, his voice gentle and certain.
It made her want to tell. It made the words fall against the seam of her closed lips and demand to be set free. And she almost gave into it, was on the verge of telling him just what troubled her. But their baby kicked at just that moment, and it was such a hard kick that it drew a gasp up Haley's throat.
"Hey now," Scott said, one hand rubbing across the bump soothingly. "There's no need to be rude. Mom and Dad are not ignoring you. Be nice."
Haley nearly started crying again with the tender tone Scott used. But the baby kicked as if in response to her father's admonishing words. Jesus Christ, she was so far off the deep end where he was concerned, she knew it was only a matter of time before she sank. "You will be such a good father some day," she said quietly. It brought his gaze up to her face again, touches of flustered pride, tentative joy, and faint embarrassment in his eyes.
As if in response to the words she'd left unspoken, the ones that said she was certain such a thing wouldn't happen with her, his hand pressed a little harder against the swell of her belly. "I'm already a father, Haley."
"Scott," she began. Her words trailed off when he simply stared at her, understanding in his gaze.
"It doesn't matter if we get to take her home with us, Haley. You're her mother and I'm her father. I couldn't be any happier."
Her eyes burned with a new batch of tears, her throat clogged with them. How she wanted to refute his words. It wasn't fair that he could say something so simple and heart-warming to her when they both knew they'd never have a chance to see her once she'd been born. When they both knew what they had could never be more than a fantasy.
The bed shifted as he moved. Soon, he was sitting beside her and he'd snaked one arm around her shoulder in order to pull her closer to him. His hand made short, slow passes up and down her arm for a few moments before he leaned over to press a kiss on the top of her head. "I know you're sad because we won't get to take her home with us, sweetheart. And its okay to feel that way. But there's no reason you need to keep it to yourself. I'm just as heartbroken that we don't get to take her home. I want to take her home so much that I feel like I would do anything to make it happen."
There was quiet desperation in his voice. Echoing along side of it was determination. As if he was trying to figure out a way to make it happen. Haley turned to look at him, her gaze searching his face. Scott's attention was given to the swell under his hand. Slowly, Haley laid her hand over his. "I feel the same," she whispered. "I want to show her all the things that make the world a good place."
Scott looked at her then, a soft smile on his face. "I was thinking I'd like to take her to Alaska. Show her where my grandparents lived. And, when she's old enough, I want to take her flying just so I can see her face when she sees how high she is and how everything at that height is so many different shades of blue and green and brown and grey. Not in the Blackbird, though. In a regular plane."
"I'm sure she'd love that," Haley replied, her voice touched by both joy and sorrow. She could just see a tiny face pressed to the glass, eyes wide as they took in the earth below. "We'd have to take her to meet my Aunt Edie."
"We?" Scott asked. She heard a faint note of nervousness there. For a moment, fear rose up to swallow her at the idea that he didn't want to be part of that or that he simply wouldn't be able to be part of it. "I've never met your Aunt Edie. What is she going to say if you show up with a new baby and her father, who happens to not be the man you're married to?"
"She'd give you a ration of grief. That's the way Edie is. But once she was done, she'd probably say something about you being all muscled and handsome and that would be the end of it. You and the baby would charm her with your good looks and lovely personality."
"You have such a high estimation of my lovely personality," Scott chuckled. No doubt he was thinking back to the bet and all of the fallout from that.
"It was a stupid bet and its well in the past." Haley leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "You do have a lovely personality, Scott. I can guarantee you that most of the girls have gotten over all that crap. Jehnna might be holding a grudge, but she's pretty much the only one. While I'm not sure just what Morgan thinks, I am confident that she's let it go. Roxxy never held it against you. And Dare has come to understand just how difficult your position is."
"Her team?"
"Yes. Despite having taken them on only one mission, she worries over their safety constantly. And the impression I've gotten from them is they would do anything for her if she asked." Haley could clearly recall the look on Duke's face when he'd stepped onto the jet before the shit show of a mission that had ended with them all stuck here. He'd been star-struck by meeting the rest of Purple Team. But there had been a seriousness behind his shocked disbelief that had suggested he knew just what kind of situation they'd be walking into.
"I need to remember to thank them properly for helping rescue you from Doom," he said, his tone filled with seriousness. "They put their asses on the line in order to do so. And they brought you home to me."
"They'll tell you the same thing they told me when I thanked them. Dare did all of the heavy lifting. They were just along for back up," Haley informed him. She watched Scott's gaze shift to take in the far end of the room. No doubt he was thinking back to that whole mess. "It isn't your fault that Doom attacked the conference, Scott."
"I was the one who sent you there. You and Dare both could have died." His voice was quiet and distant. "We were elated when we found Dare. Then came the suspicion that you hadn't died in the blast. Then Dare disappeared and nearly gave all of us a heart attack. Logan ripped Remy a new asshole for letting her sneak out on him."
"He isn't the only one," Haley told him.
"Officially, I couldn't sanction Dare's team. But I'm damn glad she snuck out of the hospital and put it together. She got you back and brought you home," he said quietly. Still, she heard the lingering traces of fear that the situation had brought to life. Haley shifted closer and turned far enough to put her arm across his chest.
"Me, too." She never would have gotten to have this time with him if Dare hadn't gone against Xavier's unspoken orders and gone off on her own. Haley would never be okay with Dare putting her life on the line the way she had, but she was glad that her friend cared enough to have risked everything to save her. The same held true for any of her friends. She would never want them to put themselves in harm's way to save her. "And you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened at the conference. Doom was after me. He's been holding a grudge for ten years and he wanted payback. He expected The Fantastic Four and the rest of Purple Team to come after me. Not Dare and her ragtag group of a team. He also didn't expect her to be able to level his goddamn castle."
"She put a target on her back," Scott said on a sigh, his words painted thickly with disgust.
That made her laugh, prompting him to focus on her once again. She could see that he took offense at her laughter. "Every single one of us puts a target on our back the moment we put on a uniform. You know that."
"But this is Doom, Haley."
"And Dare damn near fried his ass. If I hadn't said something and if she hadn't passed out, they'd have been capable of spreading his ashes all over Latveria," she told him. "Whether you believe me or not, Dare knows exactly what kind of trouble she brought upon herself by tangling with Doom. She's not half as stupid as people want to think she is."
"I never thought she was. Stubborn, but not stupid," he replied. It almost felt like an automatic reply and it made Haley wonder just how much shit involving her and her team he'd dealt with from the professor. She might have asked about it, but he started speaking again before she could make a decision. "How do you live with it, Haley?"
"With what?" she asked, mildly confused by the seemingly sudden change of subject.
"The fear. How do you live with the fear that the people we go up against might use your kids against you? How does any of your team deal with it?"
The question brought a faint smile to her face. She understood what he was asking. And she understood why. Despite everything they knew to be true, he still felt like he might be able to find a way to bring their daughter home with them. She settled her hand over his, the one that rested on the baby bump, and squeezed it gently. "You take it one day at a time and you hope that the people you have to fight have some set of morals that would prevent them from putting innocent children in the middle of things."
"Just hope? Is that all?"
"No. I also put faith in their father that he wouldn't let anyone bring any harm to his children. And I put that same faith in my friends and family. If something happened to one of my kids, I know that my team would do whatever they had to in order to punish whoever was responsible. Just like I know you'd do the same for your child. For any of the children that have been born over the years." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. A soft and gentle thing that told him she understood. "There isn't a villain on this planet that would survive the hell they brought down on their heads if they fucked with one of the children."
Scott fell silent, his expression letting her know he was turning over what she said. Digesting it. Haley left him to it, holding on to the fact that she lived with that fear every day of her life. For her children. For her friends. For her team. For her loved ones. And she didn't tell him that she would rip apart, with her two own hands, someone who dared to fuck with her family. She suspected Scott felt much the same way.
While she waited for him to finish processing what she'd said, she found herself considering just how many tiny pieces she'd rip Sinister into for daring to put friends and family into the situation they were presently in. She was fairly certain the men were handling things better than her teammates. The only exception to that might be Remy. To her knowledge, he'd never spoken with anyone what had happened to him in Creed's RV. Dare knew, but she'd never said anything because she could barely talk about what had happened to her. Haley didn't expect her to be able to talk about Remy's experiences anymore than she could her own. Haley had never been able to put aside the desire to rend Creed limb from limb. It didn't matter that Dare had turned him to ash.
For Remy and for Dare, Haley would have hunted the son-of-a-bitch down and torn him limb from limb.
What would her friends have thought of her if she'd acted on that desire? Would it have changed how Johnny saw her? Would he have fallen out of love with her if she'd killed Creed in cold blood? Would Scott be capable of giving her such tender looks if she'd murdered Sabretooth? Would he hold her so sweetly, kiss her so hungrily? Make love to her so thoroughly? Would he have issues with her darker side had he been the one who'd been taken and so completely ruined?
Haley's thoughts stopped and she blinked in disbelief. How had she not realized it? Oh, she was well aware that she loved him. Not just loved him. She was in love with him. She knew it was an exercise in futility because he would go home to Jean and it would be like this had never happened. But that would not make a difference. Scott was family now. And it wasn't simply because he'd gotten her pregnant. At some point over their captivity, she'd started thinking of him as family. And it was surprising to only realize that now, when they'd been here so long.
She was just turning a gaze filled with wonder and surprise toward Scott when he looked at her. She could see the determination in his expression, letting her know that he'd come to some decision. He shifted his position so that he almost completely faced her and brought both hands up so he could cup her face. "The next time Doom attacks, if there is a next time. If someone else thinks it would be a good idea to take you away," he began, that quality that made him a good leader echoing across his words. "The next time, Dare won't be the only one coming to rescue you, Haley. She's going to have to take me with. I will stop at nothing to get you back. And God help anyone who hurts you."
"Scott." She managed to get his name out before she found her tongue tied. Just a little. Jesus Christ, what the man did to her equilibrium. She brought one hand up and pressed it against the angular plane of his cheek. He leaned into her touch without ever taking his eyes off her. "Anyone who thinks trying to take you is a good idea will learn the hard way just how wrong they are. I will use my own two hands to rip their limbs off. No one fucks with my family. No one."
He pulled her face close at the same time she started leaning toward him. Their lips met in a kiss that was all heat and fiery possession. Scott's hands slid away from her cheeks until they were cupped around the back of her head so that he could hold her to him. Not that she had any intention of pulling away any time soon. At least, not until she needed to breathe.
Slowly, so very slowly, the kiss shifted. It went from hot and heavy to soft and tender. It was lighter. Gentler. But no less potent. And, of course, Haley responded in the typical way. Hunger and need rushed through her, insisted she get him naked and do wicked, wicked things to him. With him. For him.
The baby in her belly had other ideas. Just as her hands were starting to wander, their child kicked hard. She pulled away from Scott to gasp with the intensity of it. Apparently, the baby did not want to see her sad any more than her father. Either that or she wanted them to pay attention to her and her only. Scott's hand automatically sought out the bump and settled over it. "Someone thinks she needs to be the center of attention," he said, a faint chuckle in his words.
The baby moved then. It almost seemed to be in response to Scott's voice. His hands gave chase, followed her movements as if he was playing chase with her. "I can't say that I blame her there at all," Haley replied absently. It brought Scott's gaze her way and his eyes pinned her in place with the intensity of his regard.
Something in his expression changed, became... more somehow. And Haley felt heat run through her. There was the heat that always came when he looked at her so intently. The heat borne of desire. But there was also the heat of embarrassment because she went back over what she'd said and realized just how it had sounded. "Tell me how you really feel, Haley," Scott said, voice lower. Hungrier. More demanding.
Dear God, her face felt like it was on fire. The sad thing was she couldn't tell if it was all need, all embarrassment, or some bizarre combination of both. The way he was looking at her wasn't helping, either. Because he looked like he wanted to eat her up and...
Haley tore her gaze away in an attempt to get her wayward thoughts, and her flaming cheeks, under control. She heard a soft noise from Scott that sounded suspiciously like laughter. She searched for some way to cover her behavior. Her brain took her back to their conversation earlier. The one about him being a good father. Her attention shifted to the hands on her belly, which had stopped moving when he'd lifted his heated gaze to her face. She laid her hands over his. "You'd be such a good father," she repeated. "She'd be the luckiest little girl in the world to have you as a father."
"Haley," he began, the tone of his voice changing. She knew what was coming, so she pushed on in an attempt to keep him from telling her that she could lean on his strength. She didn't want to do that because he was going to go back to Jean eventually. And that would leave her lost.
"I can picture her first day of Kindergarten. You'd go with us, of course, because you'd want to make sure she got off okay. She'd give you big, sad eyes despite being bold and fearless like her father. You'd get down on your knees so you were on her level, and you'd tell her that you'd be waiting for her when classes let out. You'd tell her she's strong and smart and capable and that she could do it," Haley said. And she could picture it.
She could see this tiny person who shared her hair color and her father's eyes. The child was staring at her father with wide eyes, the emotions in them both real and fake. She'd be wearing something in blue, perhaps a cute little skirt with a pale blue top. And black sneakers. She'd be carrying a backpack with the latest big thing in kid's shows. And she'd have her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
"And then, when her class was out, she'd come running out of the school with a big smile on her face and her backpack clutched in one hand. The straps would be dragging the ground. But she wouldn't care. Because she'd be excited. 'Daddy!' she'd yell happily and then she'd run right into your arms. You'd scoop her up and hug her. You'd kiss her cheek. And you'd ask her about her day. You'd dote on her and she'd be your little princess."
"She'd deserve to be doted on. So would her mother," he said softly. Haley's heart leapt at that statement. But she stomped on the emotions it brought harshly. She couldn't let him fill her head with things that she knew wouldn't be true. "I can see TJ being excited to be a big sister. She'd want to teach her baby sister everything she needs to know to wrap her mother and father around her little finger. And she'd protect her from her snotty older brothers."
Haley couldn't hold back the sob his words brought to life. In the blink of an eye, Scott had her wrapped up in his arms and he rocked her back and forth gently. "What if TJ doesn't remember me? We've been gone for so long. And she's still so young," Haley got out, her voice thick and wet with tears.
"TJ is not going to forget you," Scott assured her. "She loves you too much. And Storm wouldn't let her forget you. If he does, I'll kick his ass for being an idiot."
His statement saw her laughing and crying at the same time. Scott pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his hold on her absolute. She took in the smell of him. The shampoo he used. The deodorant he wore. The smell under those two that was uniquely his. She loved how he smelled. She loved the way his skin felt on hers. She loved that he was taller than her, so that she felt the slightest bit smaller. Daintier. She didn't know how he did it. But she did. And she loved that, too.
Haley pressed herself close to him, cuddled into him. He kept holding her. Kept rocking her. Kept kissing her. Kept doing all those things that she loved about him. "Its going to be so hard to give this up," she whispered to herself. "I love you so much, Scott."
~*~
One finger tapped the button that ended the recording. Sinister took the time needed to properly label and save the file. The image on his screen showed the X-Men's leader and his companion sitting on their bed, his arms wrapped around her body while he held her tight and offered her comfort. Compassion. Companionship. It was an amusing sight. One he'd waited so very long to see.
He smiled at the way all of his plans were coming together. His gaze traveled to the next couple. Once again, Angel was graciously working his fingers into the calf muscles of the little wanton. The muscle cramps seemed to come with amazing regularity. And each time they did, Worthington would spend hours massaging the aches and pains from her muscles. Each time, they would joke about how it was his fault. And, when he'd finished with his ministrations, his hands would seek out other places to work, bringing moans and groans from his companion that had a much more sultry sound to them.
The second screen showed him that his two idealists were once again dancing. This time, they were swaying to some pop music. It didn't sound like music to him, just loud instruments and louder singing, but the two of them seemed to enjoy it. They spent hours in each other's arms, dancing to the albums he'd provided. It always ended with them falling into bed in breathless, giddy excitement. There would be conversation about family and love. And that conversation would be followed up with physical intimacy that left both breathless and exhausted.
The third and final screen provided him with a view of the thief and the fire starter. He was rubbing her back while she struggled to regain her breath. Morning sickness had hit her hard and, even at this late stage in her pregnancy, plagued her at all hours of the day. She'd more than once accused her companion of being responsible for it, claiming she'd never had such terrible morning sickness with her other pregnancies. And the thief, so thoroughly smitten with his partner and the child she carried, would make an effort to soothe her until she rested limply against his chest. Then he would settle his hands on her belly and sing to her. Some songs were in French. Many of them were in English. He rarely sang the same song twice. His singing always ended with affirmations of love that the girl returned with breathless joy and a faint touch of cautious hesitance.
This was so much better than he'd ever hoped for.
The pregnancies had been the main goal of this exercise. It had always been about the children his toys would produce with the right set of stimuli and guidance. Their growing feelings for one another was an added bonus. Their burgeoning co-dependence was akin to the cherry on top of a sundae. Of course he'd hoped for some emotional shenanigans to happen. But this went beyond his hopes and dreams. He'd found a way to shake their worlds to the very foundations. He had to admit, he was eager to see what kind of emotional fall out would land on each set of shoulders after all this.
It wouldn't be long now, before that fall out would take place. His time with his toys was rapidly nearing its end. He'd hold on to them for as long as he possibly could, of course. So he could continue to make recordings of their silly conversations. He was especially fond of the thief's singing and way Summers managed to bring the book he was reading to life. His favorite part was when his toys would talk of love for their growing child. And when they'd create their imaginative little fantasies surrounding the baby and their being a family.
A few taps of the keys on the keyboard before him pulled up the growing number of files he had saved. When the time was right, he would put all of it to good use. All of it.
The soft sound of a sigh drew his attention to the screens again. His prize catch was presently engaged in acts of sexual congress with the leader of Xavier's famed Purple Team. For this go, she lay on her side while Summers was pressed up against her back. He'd pulled one leg up and back so that it was draped over his thigh. It exposed Miss Stone's body perfectly to view. It also allowed him to watch as Summers slid into her again and again and again.
There was love in her eyes. And sorrow. No doubt her mind had turned, as it always did, toward what would become of her life when she left this place. His hands glided gently, possessively, over her skin. He would stop on occasion to tease her nipples and breasts. Or his fingers would dip between her thighs to tease at the swollen, wet flesh there. She was beautiful in her sadness.
His gaze slid from one screen to the next. Each set of his toys were engaged in some manner of pleasure. Mister Guthrie was worshipping Miss d'Abo's breasts with hands and lips. Her hands stroked the his shoulders and his arms. Cupped his neck and teased the hair resting against the nape. His little wanton was on her knees at the edge of the bed, between Worthington's spread legs. Her mouth moved with great confidence up and down the length of his impressive erection. And the last screen showed the thief laying on his back, the girl sitting atop him. Both of his hands pressed one of the fire starter's hands to his chest. There was such an earnest look on his face and he could see the way the boy's lips moved.
There was no sound, but he had no need to hear it to know that the thief had just told her he loved her. It happened each and every time the two shared some intimacy. Sinister understood the repeated use of the words. But he had no idea why the man always pressed her hand to his chest. That made no sense to him.
Not that it mattered. It would be of no concern to him once this was over. He would forget the way they touched soon enough. Their touches weren't important to him. The way he'd broken her barriers were a joy and a pleasure. And Sinister hoped, when they returned to their lives, that those shattered walls would lead to a shattered heart. It was his most fervent wish for all of his toys. Shattered hearts and shattered lives.
He did so enjoy sowing chaos and heartbreak.
For the first time since he'd brought his toys here, he turned their cameras off. Cut the feed to their private emotions and their lives. He'd seen more than enough. He'd heard more than enough. There wasn't much more he could garner from intruding upon their every waking and sleeping moment. At least, not tonight. He would spend time before his monitors again tomorrow. He would make new recordings of stories and songs and hopes and dreams. He would continue building his library. Just as he would continue his voyeurism. He would continue to wonder just how much this would destroy their lives when the time came.
Not that it would be the end. He'd see them again. Each and every one of his pets. They would never be rid of him now. He'd seen too much of their wishes and desires. He wanted to see how their time here would destroy them. He needed to see how it destroyed them.
He still wished he could keep them here with him. That he could keep them locked up inside their little cages and see just how many babies they could produce. Would they remain friendly with one another? Or would they destroy one another as time dragged on. Would they tear down the place they'd built for themselves in their hearts? He really wanted to keep them to find out if they did. But that wasn't the purpose of what he'd done here.
He resigned himself to having to set his toys free. And he knew, without a doubt, that they would never forget him. Not a single day in their lives.
They would always, always remember their time here with him.
That thought brought a toothy grin to his face. His dark laughter echoed long after he'd left his lab behind.
Chapter Eighteen: Possessive
Fandom: the Marvel universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic violence, language, sex, dark themes, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. Haley belongs to
dazzledfirestar Morgan belongs toginevra Roxxy belongs tonanaeanaven Jehnna belongs to silverfox_chan and Dare belongs to me. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from dazzledfirestar . Author's Notes: this is almost entirely Daz's fault. okay. so it really isn't. its actually almost 100% my fault. Daz just did a whole lot of encouraging. this fic is going to be kind of dark, so please keep that in mind while reading.
Among the Strong - the index
She listened to the deep quality of Scott's voice as he continued reading the adventures of halflings, humans, elves, and dwarves to the baby in her belly. It had been this way since she'd had the thing with Sinister. The thing she couldn't remember. Every day, just after lunch, when Haley got sleepy from eating and the baby draining her energy, she'd settle on the bed to rest and Scott would sit beside her, the thick tome in his hand. And he would read, each word spoken with care, to the bump.
Haley didn't bother to listen to the words. She'd read the book so many times that she practically knew it by heart. Instead, she listened to the strong, sure, steady sound of Scott's voice. Even here, in this tiny space where they were just Scott and Haley, there was that leader quality to his voice that she'd come to love.
And it wasn't just his voice she loved. There was the tender, almost reverent way, his hands touched the bump. The worshipful way they touched the rest of her. There was the uncertainty that sometimes flashed in the depths of his eyes. There was the warmth and joy that always seemed to fill them, too. There was the sweet pressure of his lips when he kissed the bump. When he kissed her. There was the smell of him, the softness of his hair, the way he was strong and gentle in turns. It was all that and so much more that pulled at her heart and tried to tear it in two.
Because the truth was, as beautiful and amazing as this time had been, it was never going to last. They'd go back home eventually. She fully believed that. To think anything else was to invite madness. Going back home meant going back to the lives they'd led before all this shit had come about. Johnny was waiting for her, probably frantic with worry because of all the time that had passed. Unless she'd been officially declared dead. Johnny might have moved on. That thought made her heart ache uncomfortably.
What would she do if Johnny thought she was gone for good? What happened if she went back and he was engaged to or married to someone else? How did she survive that? Because that would shred what remained of her heart. The rest of it would already be torn apart simply by virtue of Scott going back to Jean. She had no doubt that Jean was waiting patiently for Scott to return to her. The other woman was probably sure he would. That would leave Haley without either of them in her life.
And what about her children? She didn't think the older ones would have forgotten her already. But TJ was still so young. Would she remember her mother? Or would she start thinking of anyone Johnny might date as her mother? She didn't think she could bear it if TJ forgot her entirely. TJ, who would probably delight at the idea of being a big sister. TJ, who had been a wonderful and amazing surprise.
"Haley?" Scott's hand was there to wipe away tears she hadn't realized were falling, pulling her from her dark and depressing thoughts. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replied even though she knew he'd see it for the weak lie it was. She couldn't drop all of her stupidity on his shoulders. This was her stuff to deal with. "Just lost in thought."
Scott stared at her for several long seconds, his eyes focused on her intently. In their rich, warm brown depths, she could see his doubt and skepticism, but he said nothing, Simply took her at her word. But he did close the book with a soft thump and set it aside. The hand that had recently held the book settled on the bump possessively. "You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart," he said gently.
Haley nodded. He frowned when she wasn't more forthcoming with information. Worry took root in his gaze. It was worry for her and she felt terrible for putting it there. She hated making him fret. But this was her shit to deal with. He couldn't help her with her feelings for her husband, who might have moved on, and her lover, who would definitely move on when the time was right.
"You don't have to carry your burdens alone, Haley. You know that, right?" he asked her softly.
Guilt trickled through her. His question told her that he knew where her thoughts had drifted. And he was willing to help her with all of her emotional baggage. The urge to cry got stronger and Haley had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. "I know that, Scott. And I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that you want to help me. But there are some things that not even your broad shoulders can take." She let her hands trail across said shoulders, marveling once again in the feel of his skin against her own. In the way it hugged close to the line of his collar bones and the swell of muscle in his shoulders. He was perfection.
"When it has to do with you and our baby, I can shoulder the weight of the world, Haley. Trust me. I'm strong enough for both of us," he said, his voice gentle and certain.
It made her want to tell. It made the words fall against the seam of her closed lips and demand to be set free. And she almost gave into it, was on the verge of telling him just what troubled her. But their baby kicked at just that moment, and it was such a hard kick that it drew a gasp up Haley's throat.
"Hey now," Scott said, one hand rubbing across the bump soothingly. "There's no need to be rude. Mom and Dad are not ignoring you. Be nice."
Haley nearly started crying again with the tender tone Scott used. But the baby kicked as if in response to her father's admonishing words. Jesus Christ, she was so far off the deep end where he was concerned, she knew it was only a matter of time before she sank. "You will be such a good father some day," she said quietly. It brought his gaze up to her face again, touches of flustered pride, tentative joy, and faint embarrassment in his eyes.
As if in response to the words she'd left unspoken, the ones that said she was certain such a thing wouldn't happen with her, his hand pressed a little harder against the swell of her belly. "I'm already a father, Haley."
"Scott," she began. Her words trailed off when he simply stared at her, understanding in his gaze.
"It doesn't matter if we get to take her home with us, Haley. You're her mother and I'm her father. I couldn't be any happier."
Her eyes burned with a new batch of tears, her throat clogged with them. How she wanted to refute his words. It wasn't fair that he could say something so simple and heart-warming to her when they both knew they'd never have a chance to see her once she'd been born. When they both knew what they had could never be more than a fantasy.
The bed shifted as he moved. Soon, he was sitting beside her and he'd snaked one arm around her shoulder in order to pull her closer to him. His hand made short, slow passes up and down her arm for a few moments before he leaned over to press a kiss on the top of her head. "I know you're sad because we won't get to take her home with us, sweetheart. And its okay to feel that way. But there's no reason you need to keep it to yourself. I'm just as heartbroken that we don't get to take her home. I want to take her home so much that I feel like I would do anything to make it happen."
There was quiet desperation in his voice. Echoing along side of it was determination. As if he was trying to figure out a way to make it happen. Haley turned to look at him, her gaze searching his face. Scott's attention was given to the swell under his hand. Slowly, Haley laid her hand over his. "I feel the same," she whispered. "I want to show her all the things that make the world a good place."
Scott looked at her then, a soft smile on his face. "I was thinking I'd like to take her to Alaska. Show her where my grandparents lived. And, when she's old enough, I want to take her flying just so I can see her face when she sees how high she is and how everything at that height is so many different shades of blue and green and brown and grey. Not in the Blackbird, though. In a regular plane."
"I'm sure she'd love that," Haley replied, her voice touched by both joy and sorrow. She could just see a tiny face pressed to the glass, eyes wide as they took in the earth below. "We'd have to take her to meet my Aunt Edie."
"We?" Scott asked. She heard a faint note of nervousness there. For a moment, fear rose up to swallow her at the idea that he didn't want to be part of that or that he simply wouldn't be able to be part of it. "I've never met your Aunt Edie. What is she going to say if you show up with a new baby and her father, who happens to not be the man you're married to?"
"She'd give you a ration of grief. That's the way Edie is. But once she was done, she'd probably say something about you being all muscled and handsome and that would be the end of it. You and the baby would charm her with your good looks and lovely personality."
"You have such a high estimation of my lovely personality," Scott chuckled. No doubt he was thinking back to the bet and all of the fallout from that.
"It was a stupid bet and its well in the past." Haley leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "You do have a lovely personality, Scott. I can guarantee you that most of the girls have gotten over all that crap. Jehnna might be holding a grudge, but she's pretty much the only one. While I'm not sure just what Morgan thinks, I am confident that she's let it go. Roxxy never held it against you. And Dare has come to understand just how difficult your position is."
"Her team?"
"Yes. Despite having taken them on only one mission, she worries over their safety constantly. And the impression I've gotten from them is they would do anything for her if she asked." Haley could clearly recall the look on Duke's face when he'd stepped onto the jet before the shit show of a mission that had ended with them all stuck here. He'd been star-struck by meeting the rest of Purple Team. But there had been a seriousness behind his shocked disbelief that had suggested he knew just what kind of situation they'd be walking into.
"I need to remember to thank them properly for helping rescue you from Doom," he said, his tone filled with seriousness. "They put their asses on the line in order to do so. And they brought you home to me."
"They'll tell you the same thing they told me when I thanked them. Dare did all of the heavy lifting. They were just along for back up," Haley informed him. She watched Scott's gaze shift to take in the far end of the room. No doubt he was thinking back to that whole mess. "It isn't your fault that Doom attacked the conference, Scott."
"I was the one who sent you there. You and Dare both could have died." His voice was quiet and distant. "We were elated when we found Dare. Then came the suspicion that you hadn't died in the blast. Then Dare disappeared and nearly gave all of us a heart attack. Logan ripped Remy a new asshole for letting her sneak out on him."
"He isn't the only one," Haley told him.
"Officially, I couldn't sanction Dare's team. But I'm damn glad she snuck out of the hospital and put it together. She got you back and brought you home," he said quietly. Still, she heard the lingering traces of fear that the situation had brought to life. Haley shifted closer and turned far enough to put her arm across his chest.
"Me, too." She never would have gotten to have this time with him if Dare hadn't gone against Xavier's unspoken orders and gone off on her own. Haley would never be okay with Dare putting her life on the line the way she had, but she was glad that her friend cared enough to have risked everything to save her. The same held true for any of her friends. She would never want them to put themselves in harm's way to save her. "And you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened at the conference. Doom was after me. He's been holding a grudge for ten years and he wanted payback. He expected The Fantastic Four and the rest of Purple Team to come after me. Not Dare and her ragtag group of a team. He also didn't expect her to be able to level his goddamn castle."
"She put a target on her back," Scott said on a sigh, his words painted thickly with disgust.
That made her laugh, prompting him to focus on her once again. She could see that he took offense at her laughter. "Every single one of us puts a target on our back the moment we put on a uniform. You know that."
"But this is Doom, Haley."
"And Dare damn near fried his ass. If I hadn't said something and if she hadn't passed out, they'd have been capable of spreading his ashes all over Latveria," she told him. "Whether you believe me or not, Dare knows exactly what kind of trouble she brought upon herself by tangling with Doom. She's not half as stupid as people want to think she is."
"I never thought she was. Stubborn, but not stupid," he replied. It almost felt like an automatic reply and it made Haley wonder just how much shit involving her and her team he'd dealt with from the professor. She might have asked about it, but he started speaking again before she could make a decision. "How do you live with it, Haley?"
"With what?" she asked, mildly confused by the seemingly sudden change of subject.
"The fear. How do you live with the fear that the people we go up against might use your kids against you? How does any of your team deal with it?"
The question brought a faint smile to her face. She understood what he was asking. And she understood why. Despite everything they knew to be true, he still felt like he might be able to find a way to bring their daughter home with them. She settled her hand over his, the one that rested on the baby bump, and squeezed it gently. "You take it one day at a time and you hope that the people you have to fight have some set of morals that would prevent them from putting innocent children in the middle of things."
"Just hope? Is that all?"
"No. I also put faith in their father that he wouldn't let anyone bring any harm to his children. And I put that same faith in my friends and family. If something happened to one of my kids, I know that my team would do whatever they had to in order to punish whoever was responsible. Just like I know you'd do the same for your child. For any of the children that have been born over the years." She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. A soft and gentle thing that told him she understood. "There isn't a villain on this planet that would survive the hell they brought down on their heads if they fucked with one of the children."
Scott fell silent, his expression letting her know he was turning over what she said. Digesting it. Haley left him to it, holding on to the fact that she lived with that fear every day of her life. For her children. For her friends. For her team. For her loved ones. And she didn't tell him that she would rip apart, with her two own hands, someone who dared to fuck with her family. She suspected Scott felt much the same way.
While she waited for him to finish processing what she'd said, she found herself considering just how many tiny pieces she'd rip Sinister into for daring to put friends and family into the situation they were presently in. She was fairly certain the men were handling things better than her teammates. The only exception to that might be Remy. To her knowledge, he'd never spoken with anyone what had happened to him in Creed's RV. Dare knew, but she'd never said anything because she could barely talk about what had happened to her. Haley didn't expect her to be able to talk about Remy's experiences anymore than she could her own. Haley had never been able to put aside the desire to rend Creed limb from limb. It didn't matter that Dare had turned him to ash.
For Remy and for Dare, Haley would have hunted the son-of-a-bitch down and torn him limb from limb.
What would her friends have thought of her if she'd acted on that desire? Would it have changed how Johnny saw her? Would he have fallen out of love with her if she'd killed Creed in cold blood? Would Scott be capable of giving her such tender looks if she'd murdered Sabretooth? Would he hold her so sweetly, kiss her so hungrily? Make love to her so thoroughly? Would he have issues with her darker side had he been the one who'd been taken and so completely ruined?
Haley's thoughts stopped and she blinked in disbelief. How had she not realized it? Oh, she was well aware that she loved him. Not just loved him. She was in love with him. She knew it was an exercise in futility because he would go home to Jean and it would be like this had never happened. But that would not make a difference. Scott was family now. And it wasn't simply because he'd gotten her pregnant. At some point over their captivity, she'd started thinking of him as family. And it was surprising to only realize that now, when they'd been here so long.
She was just turning a gaze filled with wonder and surprise toward Scott when he looked at her. She could see the determination in his expression, letting her know that he'd come to some decision. He shifted his position so that he almost completely faced her and brought both hands up so he could cup her face. "The next time Doom attacks, if there is a next time. If someone else thinks it would be a good idea to take you away," he began, that quality that made him a good leader echoing across his words. "The next time, Dare won't be the only one coming to rescue you, Haley. She's going to have to take me with. I will stop at nothing to get you back. And God help anyone who hurts you."
"Scott." She managed to get his name out before she found her tongue tied. Just a little. Jesus Christ, what the man did to her equilibrium. She brought one hand up and pressed it against the angular plane of his cheek. He leaned into her touch without ever taking his eyes off her. "Anyone who thinks trying to take you is a good idea will learn the hard way just how wrong they are. I will use my own two hands to rip their limbs off. No one fucks with my family. No one."
He pulled her face close at the same time she started leaning toward him. Their lips met in a kiss that was all heat and fiery possession. Scott's hands slid away from her cheeks until they were cupped around the back of her head so that he could hold her to him. Not that she had any intention of pulling away any time soon. At least, not until she needed to breathe.
Slowly, so very slowly, the kiss shifted. It went from hot and heavy to soft and tender. It was lighter. Gentler. But no less potent. And, of course, Haley responded in the typical way. Hunger and need rushed through her, insisted she get him naked and do wicked, wicked things to him. With him. For him.
The baby in her belly had other ideas. Just as her hands were starting to wander, their child kicked hard. She pulled away from Scott to gasp with the intensity of it. Apparently, the baby did not want to see her sad any more than her father. Either that or she wanted them to pay attention to her and her only. Scott's hand automatically sought out the bump and settled over it. "Someone thinks she needs to be the center of attention," he said, a faint chuckle in his words.
The baby moved then. It almost seemed to be in response to Scott's voice. His hands gave chase, followed her movements as if he was playing chase with her. "I can't say that I blame her there at all," Haley replied absently. It brought Scott's gaze her way and his eyes pinned her in place with the intensity of his regard.
Something in his expression changed, became... more somehow. And Haley felt heat run through her. There was the heat that always came when he looked at her so intently. The heat borne of desire. But there was also the heat of embarrassment because she went back over what she'd said and realized just how it had sounded. "Tell me how you really feel, Haley," Scott said, voice lower. Hungrier. More demanding.
Dear God, her face felt like it was on fire. The sad thing was she couldn't tell if it was all need, all embarrassment, or some bizarre combination of both. The way he was looking at her wasn't helping, either. Because he looked like he wanted to eat her up and...
Haley tore her gaze away in an attempt to get her wayward thoughts, and her flaming cheeks, under control. She heard a soft noise from Scott that sounded suspiciously like laughter. She searched for some way to cover her behavior. Her brain took her back to their conversation earlier. The one about him being a good father. Her attention shifted to the hands on her belly, which had stopped moving when he'd lifted his heated gaze to her face. She laid her hands over his. "You'd be such a good father," she repeated. "She'd be the luckiest little girl in the world to have you as a father."
"Haley," he began, the tone of his voice changing. She knew what was coming, so she pushed on in an attempt to keep him from telling her that she could lean on his strength. She didn't want to do that because he was going to go back to Jean eventually. And that would leave her lost.
"I can picture her first day of Kindergarten. You'd go with us, of course, because you'd want to make sure she got off okay. She'd give you big, sad eyes despite being bold and fearless like her father. You'd get down on your knees so you were on her level, and you'd tell her that you'd be waiting for her when classes let out. You'd tell her she's strong and smart and capable and that she could do it," Haley said. And she could picture it.
She could see this tiny person who shared her hair color and her father's eyes. The child was staring at her father with wide eyes, the emotions in them both real and fake. She'd be wearing something in blue, perhaps a cute little skirt with a pale blue top. And black sneakers. She'd be carrying a backpack with the latest big thing in kid's shows. And she'd have her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
"And then, when her class was out, she'd come running out of the school with a big smile on her face and her backpack clutched in one hand. The straps would be dragging the ground. But she wouldn't care. Because she'd be excited. 'Daddy!' she'd yell happily and then she'd run right into your arms. You'd scoop her up and hug her. You'd kiss her cheek. And you'd ask her about her day. You'd dote on her and she'd be your little princess."
"She'd deserve to be doted on. So would her mother," he said softly. Haley's heart leapt at that statement. But she stomped on the emotions it brought harshly. She couldn't let him fill her head with things that she knew wouldn't be true. "I can see TJ being excited to be a big sister. She'd want to teach her baby sister everything she needs to know to wrap her mother and father around her little finger. And she'd protect her from her snotty older brothers."
Haley couldn't hold back the sob his words brought to life. In the blink of an eye, Scott had her wrapped up in his arms and he rocked her back and forth gently. "What if TJ doesn't remember me? We've been gone for so long. And she's still so young," Haley got out, her voice thick and wet with tears.
"TJ is not going to forget you," Scott assured her. "She loves you too much. And Storm wouldn't let her forget you. If he does, I'll kick his ass for being an idiot."
His statement saw her laughing and crying at the same time. Scott pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his hold on her absolute. She took in the smell of him. The shampoo he used. The deodorant he wore. The smell under those two that was uniquely his. She loved how he smelled. She loved the way his skin felt on hers. She loved that he was taller than her, so that she felt the slightest bit smaller. Daintier. She didn't know how he did it. But she did. And she loved that, too.
Haley pressed herself close to him, cuddled into him. He kept holding her. Kept rocking her. Kept kissing her. Kept doing all those things that she loved about him. "Its going to be so hard to give this up," she whispered to herself. "I love you so much, Scott."
~*~
One finger tapped the button that ended the recording. Sinister took the time needed to properly label and save the file. The image on his screen showed the X-Men's leader and his companion sitting on their bed, his arms wrapped around her body while he held her tight and offered her comfort. Compassion. Companionship. It was an amusing sight. One he'd waited so very long to see.
He smiled at the way all of his plans were coming together. His gaze traveled to the next couple. Once again, Angel was graciously working his fingers into the calf muscles of the little wanton. The muscle cramps seemed to come with amazing regularity. And each time they did, Worthington would spend hours massaging the aches and pains from her muscles. Each time, they would joke about how it was his fault. And, when he'd finished with his ministrations, his hands would seek out other places to work, bringing moans and groans from his companion that had a much more sultry sound to them.
The second screen showed him that his two idealists were once again dancing. This time, they were swaying to some pop music. It didn't sound like music to him, just loud instruments and louder singing, but the two of them seemed to enjoy it. They spent hours in each other's arms, dancing to the albums he'd provided. It always ended with them falling into bed in breathless, giddy excitement. There would be conversation about family and love. And that conversation would be followed up with physical intimacy that left both breathless and exhausted.
The third and final screen provided him with a view of the thief and the fire starter. He was rubbing her back while she struggled to regain her breath. Morning sickness had hit her hard and, even at this late stage in her pregnancy, plagued her at all hours of the day. She'd more than once accused her companion of being responsible for it, claiming she'd never had such terrible morning sickness with her other pregnancies. And the thief, so thoroughly smitten with his partner and the child she carried, would make an effort to soothe her until she rested limply against his chest. Then he would settle his hands on her belly and sing to her. Some songs were in French. Many of them were in English. He rarely sang the same song twice. His singing always ended with affirmations of love that the girl returned with breathless joy and a faint touch of cautious hesitance.
This was so much better than he'd ever hoped for.
The pregnancies had been the main goal of this exercise. It had always been about the children his toys would produce with the right set of stimuli and guidance. Their growing feelings for one another was an added bonus. Their burgeoning co-dependence was akin to the cherry on top of a sundae. Of course he'd hoped for some emotional shenanigans to happen. But this went beyond his hopes and dreams. He'd found a way to shake their worlds to the very foundations. He had to admit, he was eager to see what kind of emotional fall out would land on each set of shoulders after all this.
It wouldn't be long now, before that fall out would take place. His time with his toys was rapidly nearing its end. He'd hold on to them for as long as he possibly could, of course. So he could continue to make recordings of their silly conversations. He was especially fond of the thief's singing and way Summers managed to bring the book he was reading to life. His favorite part was when his toys would talk of love for their growing child. And when they'd create their imaginative little fantasies surrounding the baby and their being a family.
A few taps of the keys on the keyboard before him pulled up the growing number of files he had saved. When the time was right, he would put all of it to good use. All of it.
The soft sound of a sigh drew his attention to the screens again. His prize catch was presently engaged in acts of sexual congress with the leader of Xavier's famed Purple Team. For this go, she lay on her side while Summers was pressed up against her back. He'd pulled one leg up and back so that it was draped over his thigh. It exposed Miss Stone's body perfectly to view. It also allowed him to watch as Summers slid into her again and again and again.
There was love in her eyes. And sorrow. No doubt her mind had turned, as it always did, toward what would become of her life when she left this place. His hands glided gently, possessively, over her skin. He would stop on occasion to tease her nipples and breasts. Or his fingers would dip between her thighs to tease at the swollen, wet flesh there. She was beautiful in her sadness.
His gaze slid from one screen to the next. Each set of his toys were engaged in some manner of pleasure. Mister Guthrie was worshipping Miss d'Abo's breasts with hands and lips. Her hands stroked the his shoulders and his arms. Cupped his neck and teased the hair resting against the nape. His little wanton was on her knees at the edge of the bed, between Worthington's spread legs. Her mouth moved with great confidence up and down the length of his impressive erection. And the last screen showed the thief laying on his back, the girl sitting atop him. Both of his hands pressed one of the fire starter's hands to his chest. There was such an earnest look on his face and he could see the way the boy's lips moved.
There was no sound, but he had no need to hear it to know that the thief had just told her he loved her. It happened each and every time the two shared some intimacy. Sinister understood the repeated use of the words. But he had no idea why the man always pressed her hand to his chest. That made no sense to him.
Not that it mattered. It would be of no concern to him once this was over. He would forget the way they touched soon enough. Their touches weren't important to him. The way he'd broken her barriers were a joy and a pleasure. And Sinister hoped, when they returned to their lives, that those shattered walls would lead to a shattered heart. It was his most fervent wish for all of his toys. Shattered hearts and shattered lives.
He did so enjoy sowing chaos and heartbreak.
For the first time since he'd brought his toys here, he turned their cameras off. Cut the feed to their private emotions and their lives. He'd seen more than enough. He'd heard more than enough. There wasn't much more he could garner from intruding upon their every waking and sleeping moment. At least, not tonight. He would spend time before his monitors again tomorrow. He would make new recordings of stories and songs and hopes and dreams. He would continue building his library. Just as he would continue his voyeurism. He would continue to wonder just how much this would destroy their lives when the time came.
Not that it would be the end. He'd see them again. Each and every one of his pets. They would never be rid of him now. He'd seen too much of their wishes and desires. He wanted to see how their time here would destroy them. He needed to see how it destroyed them.
He still wished he could keep them here with him. That he could keep them locked up inside their little cages and see just how many babies they could produce. Would they remain friendly with one another? Or would they destroy one another as time dragged on. Would they tear down the place they'd built for themselves in their hearts? He really wanted to keep them to find out if they did. But that wasn't the purpose of what he'd done here.
He resigned himself to having to set his toys free. And he knew, without a doubt, that they would never forget him. Not a single day in their lives.
They would always, always remember their time here with him.
That thought brought a toothy grin to his face. His dark laughter echoed long after he'd left his lab behind.